


The Best Dream, But A Better Reality

by Space_and_Thyme



Series: You Are My Lucky Star [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Sleepy Sex, stevebucky gift exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_and_Thyme/pseuds/Space_and_Thyme
Summary: It’s 1938, and Steve’s last year of art school. The first semester has finally concluded, and it’s been a long fifteen weeks for both Steve, and Bucky who has picked up as much extra work as he can to cover the increase of Steve’s tuition. All Steve really wants is to curl up with his lover and kiss him senseless for the first time in more than a month. Too bad Bucky is working yet another graveyard shift...Or, the one in which Bucky comes home in the middle of the night and sleepy shenanigans ensue.





	The Best Dream, But A Better Reality

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my gift for [@ofwarbonds](https://ofwarbonds.tumblr.com/) in the stevebucky gift exchange on Tumblr. 
> 
> The prompt and limits were pretty open, so... I mean, I hope you like it! I also couldn't help but also do the art for the gift exchange. I've been meaning to post art for my [_You Are My Lucky Star_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1122552) series as it is, so... definitely decided to combine ideas. Hope you like both parts of your gift!

 

_Friday, December 16 th, 1938._

 

Honestly? Steve was just happy that the semester was completed. The last fifteen weeks had been _hellish_. The sheer volume of art that he’d had to churn out was flabbergasting, and the tuition price had been raised for that fall. Bucky had been working longer and longer hours to accommodate for the increase, while keeping them as comfortable in their home as he could.

 

Steve hated that Bucky had to work so hard because _he_ was in school. He hated that Bucky simply adapted and overcame when it was necessary – he _wanted_ Bucky to be angry, to rage and to complain. At least then he thought maybe the feeling of guilt wouldn’t be so prevalent – if they could both rage at the increase – but no, Bucky simply read over the invoice for the fee that was due, and nodded his head. He had folded it back into thirds and set it on the shelf above the radio, between a couple of Sarah’s old knickknacks, and that was that. He’d never complained, not even with the increase of a full $20 for the four month interval – not even when their rent also increased to a full $15 per month, from $12.50. It was asking _a lot_ for their small living space.

 

Steve had honestly considered dropping out of the program – and had told Bucky as much - because he couldn’t bring himself to be the reason that Bucky was _constantly_ stretched thin and exhausted. Again, as Steve had rather expected, Bucky had told him no. _‘One a’us has got a chance to make somethin’ of themselves, Stevie. Ya got a year left before ya graduate – with_ honours _I might add, pal. Ya ain’t givin’ up on your dream just ‘cause the money’s a little tight. I ain’t lettin’ ya give up like that. ‘Sides, when you’re a big an’ fancy illustrator, ya can keep me happy with fancy chocolates and stuff. I’ll get fat while_ you _work to keep us.’_ Of course, he’d ended that statement with a blinding grin, forcing Steve to start laughing.

Still, the semester had been painful – both mentally and physically, for _both_ of them. Bucky frequently picked up extra work where he could – taking extended hours at the docks, doing handiwork for Mrs. Garabaldi in the next building, and taking more shifts as the nude life model for Steve’s illustration class. By the end of every week his muscles were aching and twitching when he crawled into their bed. Steve was no better off – carrying multiple large canvases, his entire oil paint kits, spending nights working the stretcher to prep the canvases in question, spending every waking hour working himself to the bone to create his body of work for the semester. And, worst of all, it constantly seemed that no matter how much he worked, he was always somehow behind schedule.

 

So, Friday night of that last week of the semester, he was glad to finally drag himself back into their apartment and collapse on the couch for a few minutes.

 

And then he saw the note left on the coffee table, in Winnifred Barnes’ neat, looping, handwriting.

 

_Steve,_

_Bucky called this afternoon to ask me to let you know that he was going to be late. He took another graveyard shift, so please don’t worry when he doesn’t come home tonight._

_I left you a green bean casserole in the icebox, darling. If you need anything, you know where to find us._

_Love,_

_Mama Winnie._

Steve sighed and set the note back onto the table. He loved Bucky’s family, more than he could ever say. Almost as much as he loved their son. And of course he appreciated Winnie’s concern, and the food that she left for them – well, for Steve especially. But, really all he’d wanted tonight was to snuggle up in Bucky’s arms and just relax. Let the semester melt away, and enjoy the next three weeks he had free and clear.

 

He loved Mama Winnie, and he loved Bucky for taking care of him, even if he would _never_ tell Bucky. But, he really just wanted to be selfish tonight – hoard Bucky all for himself. And, maybe if he was lucky… finally get a few hours _alone_ with his lover. To worship that body with his own, the way he had with his paints and his conté time and time again over the course of the term.

 

 In the end, Steve sectioned off a portion of the green bean casserole, small enough to fit in a ceramic bowl, and put it in the oven to reheat. After he ate, he picked up his sketchbook – desperately wanting to draw _just_ for himself, and sat for an hour and a half on the worn-out couch. Eventually he retreated, body aching and exhausted, to the bedroom and stripped down to his shorts; crawling under the covers for a desperately needed night of sleep.

 

Too bad the bed was cold, and the lumpiness of the mattress was all the more evident without the warm weight of Bucky tucked up against him.

 

The bedroom itself was cold – the seal around the window was broken, and the icy air flooded in and spread over the small bed. It made Steve’s already aching joints ache all the worse, and kept sleep away for almost longer than he could stand. He fell asleep, eventually, curled into a tight ball with the worn old flannel top sheet and wool blanket pulled up to his ears.

 

In the dark of the night, the bedroom door creaked open slowly, as Bucky peaked in. He saw the shivering ball under the thin bedding, and sighed softly to himself. “Stevie, come on…” he rubbed his hand over his eyes and quietly walked to the end of the bed, opened up the blanket chest, and lifted out the comforter with the flattened and slightly matted inner layer of down. Closing the chest again quietly, Bucky crept up the side of the bed and unfolded the comforter – unfurling it and layering it over Steve’s sleeping form. He reached and brushed Steve’s golden hair off of his forehead gently, as the young man curled up tighter in the nest of bedding – pulling the soft comforter’s edge closer to his face.

 

Bucky stood at the end of the bed again and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, his shoulders stiff and sore from carrying heavy crates of produce for much of the previous day. At least the night shift had been in the office, bookkeeping for his employer. Still, after a day of hauling crates, suddenly sitting hunched over a desk for another long segment of hours was enough to seize him up. He slowly stripped himself down to his boxers, and set his clothes in the hamper – he’d have to do the laundry in the morning, but at least that was something that he could _see_ making a difference in their apartment.

 

Linking his fingers in front of him, Bucky stretched himself out, rising up onto the balls of his feet. He pushed further and further until his spine suddenly popped and shifted back into alignment. Lowering himself back onto his feet, he exhaled in a long show of relief. Moving carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible, Bucky climbed over the blanket chest and onto the foot of the bed. He eased up the bed and slowly lowered himself down onto the chilled mattress, tucked between Steve and the wall; his usual placement. He lifted the blankets and scooched under them, snuggling up against Steve’s tightly curved body as he laid the bedding back over himself. Steve shivered, and Bucky sighed softly.

 

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist, and tugged him back against his chest. The man’s skin was cool to the touch, but at least it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Not with the furnace of Bucky’s body heat unyielding behind him. He shifted, wiggling and settling down against the mattress as he conformed his body to the smaller man’s – blanketing Steve with his warmth as he nuzzled the back of Steve’s neck gently, nosing his way under the blond hair. Bucky slid his hand down Steve’s abdomen slowly, feeling the icy nature of his skin, before he slipped between Steve’s thighs; cradling Steve’s sex in the warmth of his palm.

 

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was soft and sleep heavy as he slowly came out of dream-state. He turned his head a fraction against the pillow, glancing back over his shoulder.

 

“’m here, baby.” Buck rumbled quietly, and nuzzled the space between Steve’s neck and shoulder from behind.

 

Steve shuddered as he registered the full feeling of warmth as it seeped through him from Bucky’s near-naked body against his back, and the warm hand cradling the intimate part of his anatomy. Despite his exhaustion, Steve felt his cock twitch in his cotton boxers with interest at the feeling of Bucky’s warm palm cupping him. He swallowed slowly. “Wha’ time’s’it?”

 

“About three, Sugar.” Bucky nuzzled the shell of Steve’s ear.

 

Steve sighed softly, somewhere between sleep and relief at having Bucky back at home and in bed with him. He shifted slightly, and turned his head as far as he could, seeking his beloved out. Bucky closed the distance, leaning over his shoulder and meeting Steve in a soft kiss; the two of them melting into each other. Steve sucked on Bucky’s tongue tenderly, as Bucky’s hand moved slowly, massaging softly – just enough to make Steve groan against his kiss and grind against his palm.

 

Steve pulled back – his eyes closing as he moaned softly. Bucky nuzzled behind Steve’s ear, and curled the tip of his tongue around Steve’s earlobe, drawing it between his lips. He sucked softly. Steve’s hands moved – left lying over Bucky’s forearm, while the right lifted and went around the back of Bucky’s head – carding his fingers into Bucky’s soft curls. He bit his bottom lip as Bucky’s hand slowly worked, his fingertips massaging him to full hardness.

 

“I missed you.” Steve hissed out softly – unable to stop himself. “I _miss_ you.” He moaned softly and arched as Bucky hummed and sucked at the back of his neck.

 

“I miss you too.” Bucky rumbled quietly as he worked the buttons of Steve’s boxer’s waistband open with one hand. As the fabric surrendered and parted his fingers slipped inside and gently circled Steve’s cock. Bucky rubbed him carefully – a couple of long and slow strokes from root to tip – swirling his palm over the head, before sliding back down. “This alright?” He hummed gently by Steve’s ear.

 

Steve nodded his head as he drank in a couple of deep breaths. “Yes… yeah –“ his voice faltered as he shuddered, feeling Bucky’s hips rolling in slow and gentle thrusts against his backside – moving in tandem with his talented hand. The feeling of Bucky’s erection against his backside through the double layer of their shorts only excited Steve further.

 

Six weeks. Six weeks since the last time they’d been intimate – not through lack of trying. They’d simply both been so ridiculously exhausted from their extended schedules that soft touches and tender kisses usually failed before they got anywhere – one or both of them falling asleep.

 

Steve couldn’t help but sleepily roll his hips – thrusting himself into Bucky’s fist and rubbing himself against his lover’s erection. He tightened his fingers in Bucky’s dark hair as he fell into the rhythm – writhing and undulating slowly and peacefully with his lover.

 

Bucky shifted slightly – bringing his knee up slowly between Steve’s legs. His strong thigh lightly brushed against Steve’s testicles – making the smaller man jerk with pleasure and tug at his hair, even with the layer of cotton between them. “That’s it baby, I’ve got ya...” He nuzzled firmly at the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder; nipping at the flesh with sharp teeth.

 

Steve shuddered, groaning, as he ground himself against Bucky’s thigh- pushing back against the warm wall of his lover’s body while his hips thrust into his talented hand. “Bucky…” he gasped quietly into the night air. His fingers gripped a little harder into the meat of Bucky’s forearm, as he tugged sharply at Bucky’s hair. Bucky hummed appreciatively and swirled his palm over the desperately leaking head of Steve’s cock.

 

“Oh god, _Buckyyy_ …” Steve whimpered softly. His fingernails were cutting crescent moons into Bucky’s skin, but the other man didn’t seem to care, or even notice.

 

Bucky’s right hand slipped around Steve’s hip while the left continued to stroke, until Steve’s pelvis was cradled in the warmth of both of Bucky’s forearms. The tips of his right middle and ring fingers gently stroked over Steve’s testicles, as he mouthed at the back of his neck.

 

“Bucky… Bucky _please_ …” Steve panted breathily as he wiggled his hips against Bucky’s – still revelling in the feeling of Bucky’s erection throbbing against the cleft of his backside. He tossed his head back against Bucky’s shoulder in pleasure as his cock twitched threateningly in Bucky’s unrelenting hands. “I’m gonna-“

 

“Let go, Sweetheart. ‘M right here.” Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s skin, and sucked softly on the sensitive spot behind his ear.

 

It was too much – too long since they’d last brought each other to the peaks of pleasure, too long since they’d been able to curl up together and enjoy the warmth and softness of each other. Too much stress over the last four months. And, too much of Bucky’s touch after going so long without it. He was like a man in a desert, suddenly given an oasis.

 

Steve gasped as the tightly coiled heat in his lower abdomen suddenly broke free- his body jerking and going tense as his orgasm washed over him. His voice turned silent – the soft sob that was waiting to be gasped instead died on his lips with the intensity of his pleasure. He’d ruined the bedding, and coated Bucky’s hand with his release, but the powerful feeling of peace that settled into his bones had Steve’s eyes drifting shut before he could even _think_ of cleaning himself up.

 

Unfortunately, he was once again asleep before he had the chance to know if Bucky had found his own release.

 

In the morning, the bed was cold, and empty. Slowly waking from slumber, Steve blinked sluggishly a few times as the sleep-foggy memory of the night before came back to him. Instantly, he cursed himself in silence as he noted the soiled state of the bedding. _‘Can’t believe I made a mess because of a damn_ dream _. Get it together Rogers! All ya had to do was_ wait _another day!’_

 

Steve pushed himself up from the bed, and scrubbed his hands against his tired eyes. He’d have to strip and remake the bed before Bucky came home.

 

For a dream, it had been one hell of a good one – the feeling of Bucky’s warm body pressed against him – tender strokes and talented fingers with affectionate and deft kisses around his neck and shoulders. Steve had dreamed exactly what he wanted from Bucky – only… his strained and tired mind had been selfish with his dream – giving him only _his_ needed orgasm, and focusing only on the selfish pleasure that Bucky could give _him_. What he _really_ wanted, however, was to get his hands on him. Steve had been wanting to feel his lover, stroke him, kiss him, _love_ him, for _weeks_. He wanted to focus on the two of them together, and that meant being able to get his hands on Bucky’s body, _not_ just feeling the slight rubbing of Bucky’s cock against his backside in a dream where _he_ was the one getting all the pleasure.

 

Sighing to himself, Steve stripped out of his opened and ruined boxers- he must have unbuttoned them himself while he was mostly asleep. It had been his own hand working his aching flesh while his exhausted mind supplied a lucid and realistic projection of the love of his life. Tossing the cotton shorts, without looking, into the wicker laundry basket that sat on the bedroom floor, Steve focused on the clock. It was seven thirty in the morning; Bucky would be home from his graveyard shift at the docks in a matter of minutes. There wouldn’t be time to strip the bed between now and then, so Steve dressed quietly, and as quickly as he could. He was pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders as he stepped out of the bedroom, hoping to get across the small apartment and start to brew the morning coffee before Bucky arrived. If he was lucky, there were still a couple of eggs left in the ice box alongside the rest of Winnie Barnes’ green bean casserole. He’d leave the casserole for their dinner – at the very least for _Bucky’s,_ but that wouldn’t stop him from making eggs on toast for his lover if they did still have them. That way, he could make breakfast and strip and remake the bed while Bucky ate.  

 

The smell of already brewed coffee caught Steve off guard – the entire expanse of the tiny apartment was filled with the rich, if slightly burned, aroma of Lion Coffee. Blinking, Steve glanced up and towards the kitchen – where he spotted Bucky already standing at the counter with his back to the rest of the living space. His shoulders seemed a little hunched, and his left hand was planted the edge of the counter. Judging by his posture, Steve hazarded a guess that Bucky was reading the morning newspaper while he held a mug of coffee in his right hand.

 

“Buck?” Steve called out softly as he padded across the hardwood floor on bare feet. “When did you get home?” he came to stand beside the taller young man, and lifted his left hand to rub at Bucky’s knotted right shoulder.

 

Bucky’s brows furrowed as he turned his head to look down at Steve – a look of clear bewilderment. “Around three this morning? Like I told ya?” He quirked one shapely dark brow.

 

Steve paused, nearly freezing in place. After a moment he swallowed and spoke quietly. “That was real?”

 

Bucky blinked, and snorted slightly as he took another mouthful of black coffee- it nearly came back out his nose. To save himself, he set the mug down on the counter. “What, did ya think ya were dreaming about –“ Steve’s intense crimson blush answered the question before he could even finish asking it. Bucky had to laugh, even as tired as he was. “Oh my God, you _did_!”

 

“Shut up…” Steve hissed softly as he rubbed his eyes. He reached for Bucky’s mug, and quickly knocked back a mouthful – he nearly choked, spluttering, when he realized how dark the other man had brewed the coffee. Bucky Barnes was the reason that coffee was called ‘ _mud_ ’. “God, how can ya drink that with a straight face?”

 

Bucky shrugged his shoulders easily. “Puts hair on your chest – actually…” He put his index finger under the bottom of the mug that Steve was still holding up near his face, and tipped the cup – forcing Steve to swallow another mouthful of the thick and rich coffee. “Best drink as much of it as ya can stand, pal.”

 

Steve glared at Bucky over the top of the mug, even as Bucky beamed that _too-innocent_ smile - only slightly marred by the black circles under Bucky’s beautiful grey eyes. Steve was not one to back down. And, as much as he hated taking his coffee pure black (both he and Bucky tried to save a bit of honey for Steve to cut the bitterness of his morning coffee), and least of all like a fine caffeinated sludge, he wasn’t about to let Bucky win this this round. He tightened his grip on the mug, and tilted his head back – his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed down all the remaining tepid coffee from Bucky’s cup. Bucky just raised a brow in question; Steve hadn't blinked the entire time he drank, too focused on keeping his (playful) glare locked onto Bucky’s face.

 

After a moment, Bucky spoke up again as he turned his back to the counter and leaned against it. “Do ya _really_ not remember last night?”

 

Steve shook his head, “I remember, I just… I thought it was a dream when I woke up. I was really tired and I guess I wasn’t entirely awake when ya got into bed with me. Sorry…”

 

Bucky studied his face for a long moment as he worried his bottom lip.

 

Steve spotted the movement, and recognized the anxiety in his friend’s eyes, even if others would have missed it, or dismissed the lip worrying for something more akin to a seduction technique. “What? What’s wrong?”

 

“I uh… I asked ya if… If it was alright that I was touchin’ ya…”

 

Steve relaxed gently. “Yeah, and I said it was… I might have thought I was dreaming, but I still _wanted_ it, Bucky.”

 

Bucky nodded, folding his arms protectively over his chest, as he glanced away from Steve’s eyes.

 

Steve stepped in closer, tugged his arms apart – the man didn’t put up much of a fight – and stepped into Bucky’s personal space. He moved to say both Bucky’s name, and an affectionate nickname at the same time, what came out instead… “Bunny –“

 

Both of them froze.

 

Bucky snorted softly. “ _Bunny_? That’s a new one…” he teased.

 

“Uhg, I went ta say _Bucky_ and _Hunny_ , Jerk.” Steve lightly smacked his forehead off of Bucky’s clavicle, as his friend’s arms wrapped around him. “I’m _never_ calling you _‘Bunny’_ again.”

 

“Awww… aren’t I cute enough?” Bucky teased, trying to push aside the still present feeling of anxious worry.

 

“With your ugly mug? Nah, if it’s gonna be an animal, I’d have ta call ya Ratty, or somethin’ – sharp nose an’ all.”

 

Bucky smiled gently, willing to let it go.

 

“Seriously, Buck… I might have been half asleep, but I was willing…” He blushed a little. “When I came home yesterday… all I really wanted to do was crawl onto your lap and kiss you senseless… but you were needed at work longer, and… well… I sat up for a while but I was tired and I went to bed so that I’d get to see you sooner…”

 

“Sap.” Bucky hiccupped – god, his level of exhaustion was making him emotional.

 

Grinning, Steve reached up and cradled Bucky’s face in his hands – he pulled him down slowly, and crushed his mouth against Bucky’s.

 

Bucky’s brows knit with emotion, lifting in the centre as he whimpered slightly against Steve’s coffee-black kiss. His hands settled on him, framing his waist, as Steve licked his way into Bucky’s mouth.

 

Steve pushed Bucky back against the counter, rising onto the balls of his feet as he licked the inside of Bucky’s cheek and swirled his tongue around Bucky’s, before he sucked on it tenderly but eagerly. He relished the way that Bucky’s hands tightened and squeezed his waist. Steve pressed closer, and bit at his lover’s lip – making the man whine and moan enthusiastically.

 

Bucky finally pulled back from Steve’s mouth, panting softly. Steve pressed closer, his hands settling on Bucky’s shoulders as he used the position for leverage. He nosed at Bucky’s jaw, as he kissed at his neck and throat. He moved one hand, and popped open the buttons before spreading Bucky’s shirt collar open. He nuzzled at Bucky’s adam’s apple, before kissing down into the hollow at the base of his throat as he lowered himself back onto the flats of his feet.

 

Bucky’s tongue flickered out, and he wet his lips as he fought the urge to groan any louder. It was too early; too many people still sleeping and still at home, to risk being heard by their neighbours. He ran his hands through Steve’s golden hair as he fought to keep himself grounded.

 

Steve pressed closer, his abdomen flush against Bucky’s already hardening erection. He smirked slightly as he looked up at Bucky sunnily. “My turn, baby…” he pulled back from Bucky, and grabbed his hand. Without turning, he tugged him out of the kitchen and back towards their bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> And to all my other readers that have been sticking with this series, I just want to say _Thank you!_
> 
>  
> 
> With the stress that has been the last 15 weeks (because yep... definitely writing Steve's experience of art school from my own personal experiences), it's been incredibly hard to find time to write, no matter how much I've wanted to. So, _thank you_ for sticking with me.
> 
>  
> 
> _Till the end of the line,_ right?


End file.
